


Burning Rome

by Or_nji



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Android Revolution, Bagels, Computers, Crimes, Crimes & Criminals, CyberLife, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Father Hank Anderson, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hacking, Hank is a badass, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Jericrew, Killing yay, Like, M/M, Murder Mystery, Not Beta'd, Organized Crime, Police, Romance, Serial Killers, Slow Build, Sumo is a badass, The Jericrew - Freeform, it's gonna be a long ride, its gonna get worse before its gonna get better, more tags to come i dont want to spoil shit, really slow build, shady shit, so buckle up, son connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-20 09:03:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17619482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Or_nji/pseuds/Or_nji
Summary: Set a year after the successful android revolution, a string of deaths start to emerge and it threatens to break the fragile peace of Detroit. Hank Anderson and his partner Connor are on the case, but finds that the mystery holds more than just bodies. Will they be able to uncover the secrets lurking in the shadows? Are they prepared to close the wounds that they will open?





	1. the boy from Ipanema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world just so happens to tilt at the unsightly view of a dead body.

There was always a unique silence that permeated the bullpen in the early hours in the department. Some officers have yet to settle in for the day, and the rest shuffle in from a long night. The bullpen was usually quiet during this time of day, which was why the low hum of the 6 AM news reverberated like static in the office of captain Jeffrey Fowler.

He was seated in his usual chair in his crisp white shirt and pressed black pants. He had  a data pad gripped on one of his hands. His eyes were darting from that to his monitor, deep in thought. But something the news anchor has said caught his attention.

_"...top story for this morning is about the death of comedian and android activist Richard Janeiro..."_

The glass panels of his office did not do much to block out the sound from the news broadcast that was being turned up. His eyes narrowed slightly, and gripped the data pad tightly. Several officers who were on duty started to crowd the screen located by the front of the bullpen and he wasn't sure if he wanted to either join them or yell at them to get back to their damn work.  He didn't want to deal with the displeasure of having to deal with local news outlets hounding the department for any information regarding this death. He already had enough on his plate.

He continued to listen to the drone of the news anchor as she regurgitates information he already knew. Yet, hearing it make the case seem so foreign. There was something about this that was sending his instincts haywire, and he didn't like it one bit.

Fowler's experience in the force is extensive. In his lifetime he had proudly served in the Navy, and he always attributed his position as captain of the homicide division to the lessons that he had learned in the field. He had worked hard to climb the ranks in the division, and in his years as a detective he had witnessed some gruesome things. He would like to believe that not a lot of things were able to spook him. And to his credit, not a lot of things did. But something about this particular gut feeling rattled the rookie inside of him; something that he can't seem to put a finger on.

There were several snippets of information from two cases that was scattered around his desk and he was a little underwhelmed with what they knew about each. Both looked like normal, natural deaths. Nothing looked out of place, and that frustrated him to no end.

He went back to re-reading the files of the first case that was on the data pad. The victim was found a few days ago by his wife. He suffered from a heart attack and lost his balance. He got a cracked skull on his way down. The labs were currently doing their best analyzing some of the evidences that they have collected, but until that was done, he was stuck on that one.

He only reopened the first case because his wife had threatened that she was going to sue the precinct if he didn't. He was very skeptical at first, but now he believes that she might be onto something. What convinced him even more was how eerily similar this case was to Janeiro's.

Next, Fowler scanned the details for the comedian's death. His eyes glides over the photos of the scene and noted that there was no sign of a struggle like in the first murder. Janeiro was found by his landlord, and there were photos taken of the scene. There was no murder weapon that was found in the apartment, or any sign that this was supposed to be handled by his department, but his instincts were telling him to swipe up the case anyway.

A slight tap on his glass door disrupted the captain's musings, effectively bringing him back to reality. He turned towards his visitors and beckoned them to enter his office. There was a light swoosh of his doors and in steps his best lieutenant and his oldest friend, Hank Anderson. His silver hair pulled into a decent-looking low ponytail. And although his fashion choices were still questionable, it was evident that he was more put together now. He cleaned up most of his act since the revolution, and Fowler was glad he was back to his usual vigor. Tailing right behind him is his detective partner the android RK800. If there was anyone who could solve the case, it was probably going to be them.

Fowler gripped his knuckles for a moment as he tried to decide on the best way to explain the circumstances of the case, especially when he himself couldn't make heads nor tails of it either. He sees Connor tilt his head to the side, but he chose not to acknowledge it.

"Whoa, who busted your balls early in the morning?" Hank asks, immediately able to pick up on the distress on the old captain's face. It appears the android wasn’t the only one who noticed his sour mood. Hank plops onto the chair in front of his table ungracefully, and Connor dutifully opts to stand behind the man.

"I'm assigning the Janeiro case to you." Jeffrey says bluntly. From experience, he's learned that  the best way to get something across Hank was to cut back on the bullshit.

Hank raised a brow. "Is that even supposed to be handled by Homicide?"

"Well I'm assigning it to you, aren't I? I also want you to check out James Rowan."

"The radio guy? Didn't he die of a heart attack? What do you need me for?"

Fowler pauses for a moment, unsure of how much he should share his speculations to the duo. "I want you to look for a possible connection between the two."

Hank stares at his friend skeptically. He grabbed a data pad that was on the captain's table that flashed a photo of the comedian. His body was contorted into an uncomfortable position, he looked absolutely miserable. Connor peered behind his shoulders but doesn’t say anything.

"You think they were both murdered, don't you?"

"I don't want to be right on this one. Let's keep it quiet until you have something for me."

"Do we already have Janeiro's cause of death?"

"For now it's inconclusive. But there was a pool of blood and vomit that was found near his body."

Hank raised a brow. "So, he was poisoned?"

"That's my theory. Toxicology should have something for you now for the Rowan case. They will be sent to you, Connor. Now, go. I want an update on those cases by tonight."

The lieutenant looked pensive for a moment, data pad still at hand, before putting it down. He glanced at his partner, but all he got from him was a questioning look.

"You’ll have an update by tonight, Captain." Connor replied before the pair made their way out of the glass office. Whatever spooked the captain, it was certainly starting to get under the old lieutenant’s skin too. Hank glanced at Connor when he asked him a question, but he chose not to answer. Briefly, his eyes flitted towards the clouds starting to brew above Detroit. He hoped the day would turn out better than the weather.

____

There was a slight chill in the air together with an early morning shower in downtown Detroit. People scrambled to get to places or to just look for shelter, but there was one figure who seemed almost unbothered by the chaos. It was a woman, her pale complexion and eyes covered by thick-rimmed glasses. She was wearing an old-fashioned rain coat too big on her, but apart from that, nothing else was sheltering her small frame from the increasing pour of the rain.

It was as if she was in a trance, breathed in and unmoving. Her eyes remained glued to a large screen that peeked inside of a quaint diner. She didn't hear what was being said, but it was obvious that it was part of the early morning news. The segment showed a smiling man in his early forties. He looked absolutely alive in the photo, his caramel skin glistening under the light of the stage of the bar that he was on. What made her stop was the headline that it was coupled with: _ACTIVIST RICHARD JANEIRO FOUND DEAD_.

A man scrambling for shelter collided with her small frame, effectively snapping her out of her reverie. She mutter a small "sorry" under their breath before doing her best to gather her bearings. She found herself slowly approaching the store, her legs felt like bricks as she did so. Her eyes never left the smiling man's face.

The storefront opened with a small ding as she stepped in. A server greeted her with a small "good morning" and asked if she would like to have a table but she paid it no mind. Instead, she concentrated on the words that the screen was spewing.

 _"New developments emerge as the investigation pursues regarding the sudden death of award-winning comedian and android activist Richard Janeiro..."_ The news droned. She scrutinized every word that came out of the anchor woman's mouth, drowning out everything else.

 _"...He was found dead in his apartment in today's early hours..."_ Those few words served to be her breaking point and it was harder to hear about it than anything else. She shuts her eyes slowly, trying her best not to cry.

"You're a fan of him too?" a mousy voice speaks from her side. When she looked up, she found the kind eyes of the server that greeted her.

"Perhaps more than I thought I was." she says ruefully.

He then turned his attention back to the large screen mounted on the wall, tuning in to the gruesome details the anchorwoman was delivering.

"Such a shame he died like that, don't you think?"

Her face contorted into an unreadable expression. "Yes... such a shame indeed."


	2. rebel red Carnation grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up close and personal isn't always the best, albeit necessary, view.

The android RK800 - or Connor, as he would be preferred to be addressed, has been enjoying his work as a homicide detective at the Detroit Police Department. Detective work has always been his intended purpose, and although a lot of androids strayed away from their initial jobs, Connor found that he had grown to love and enjoy being a detective.

He had unintentionally become a key figure at the successful Android Revolution that happened over a year ago, and he agreed to help Markus negotiate the terms for their freedom. But that meant that he had to spend less time taking cases. It was difficult at first, but he prioritized his mission to help Markus establish android freedom over his own desire to go back to the DPD.

Now that things are starting to move forward with the negotiations, Connor decided that it was time to step back. Android laws were starting to materialize, and he felt that he would not be much help on that since it was beyond what he considered as his area of expertise. Though, he remained a faithful counsel to the leader of Jericho and has kept close contact with him and the rest of his crew.

So now, he is 4 months into his old detective job again. He was grateful that the whole department welcomed him with open arms and less of the animosity that he expected. The android eased back into his old post without a hitch. Even Gavin didn't antagonize him much, but their relationship could still use a little bit of work, if he were to put it lightly.

He and Hank had been called in the office earlier than usual, and that had put the old lieutenant in a mood. But ever since the revolution he had been better at complying with the department's regulations. He was still grumpy most of the time, though. But Connor guessed it was just part of the lieutenant's personality.

They walked in the department and found several on-duty police officers crowding their newly installed screen at the front of the bullpen. He glanced at the broadcast briefly before turning to follow the lieutenant who just ignored the flock. The mood in the bullpen was a little tense, and that did not change once they stepped in Fowler's office.

As soon as they enter the glass office, he noted that the captain's expression was pinched and troubled, but he was keen on opting not to comment on it. Hank, on the other hand was not one to follow such social protocol. Fowler didn't seem too keen on the lieutenant's behavior, but he let it slide.

The captain then proceeded to tell them about the case. And when Connor heard about it, excitement bubbled up in him.He was eager to start on the case. They would get new and interesting jobs at the daily, but it wasn't as intriguing as this one.

But as the briefing continued, Connor could sense the weird tension grow palpable between the old friends. He did not understand the strange trepidation in the captain's expression, nor the troubled look that his partner had gotten once they were informed that they were to investigate on Rowan.

When they were due to leave, Hank still looked a little bit troubled. "Hank, are you alright?"

Blue eyes shifted to him and for a moment he thought he wasn't going to answer him. "I don't know what Jeffrey's thinking."

"He does seem upset by something. Could it be the case?"

"Nah, it takes more than that to bother the guy. It must be something more."

Connor's LED spun yellow for a brief moment, trying to analyze recent events to try and justify the captain's odd behavior.

"Don't sweat it too much, kid. Now, did the toxicology reports arrive yet?"

"Yes, it has arrived. But given the nature of the case, we should discuss it once we are inside the car."

"If you say so."

They walked to the car without further chatter. The officers that were gathered in front of the television were no longer there and the TV screen flashed the DPD logo. Once Hank and Conner reached the car, Hank urged his partner to fill him in on the details.

"So, what do we got?" Hank asked as they peeled off from the street.

"The results are positive for trace amounts of Oleander in his bloodstream."

"Oleander? What the hell is that shit?"

"It is a small shrub or tree in the genus Nerium. It belongs to the family Apocyn-"

"And in English that means?"

"It's a small decorative houseplant for most people. But once ingested, the poison in its components activate."

Hank thinks for a moment. "And what happens when the poison activates?"

"Ingesting Oleander poison can result to vomiting, drowsiness, and irregularities in the heart."

Hank's eyes widened a little. "So, it forces the body into a heart attack?"

Connor eyed his partner. "It's plausible. Case files indicated that Rowan had also been sick before he died. So, Oleander might very well be the culprit."

Hank didn't say anything after that. Instead, he chose to concentrate back on the road. They were almost there.

The android detective eyed the compound that they were driving in. Even in its simplicity, the neighborhood exuded an air of extravagance. They got out of the car and immediately went to the apartment.

The walk up was quiet. Hank was still processing what they have discussed in the car. Already the Rowan case was starting off in a tailspin. So the guy did die of a heart attack, that much was true. But it wasn't just a simple heart attack either.  The old lieutenant figured that someone poisoned him. Now it was just a matter of who.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator. The doors revealed a posh looking interior, with police officers swarming the end of the hall. Connor and Hank approached the team, but before they could proceed further, another officer stopped them.

"Why is homicide here?" The man said gruffly.

Hank regarded him quietly before answering. "Just making sure of a few things. If it were me, buddy, I wouldn't want to be here either."

The man seemed to be taken aback by Hank's answer so he continued on to make conversation. Hank shot Connor a knowing look, so the android took the liberty to look around while the man was distracted.

By this time, Connor had already established his reputation, and although some of the police officers felt a little intimidated by the former Deviant Hunter, they had no qualms about him looking around the scene. He was gracious enough to try his best to not get in their way of doing their jobs, but he made sure that he was thorough.

The apartment felt lush, but it’s decors were minimalist, something that Connor found to appreciate. He made quick work of the living room, noting that there were scattered pain medications in the albeit tidy space.

The android detective worked his way towards the kitchen where the body was found. Luckily, they made it in time before it was moved. He made a beeline towards the body and tried to reconstruct what happened before his untimely death. There was vomit dribbling from the sink near the body, and the way that it was position suggested that he was vomiting before he lost his balance and died on the spot.

Connor knelt beside the body. Another odd thing about Deviancy that he had trouble getting used to was his unease and sympathy towards the victims. It wasn't for every body that he had to analyze, but the feeling was reserved for victims of more unfortunate circumstances. And such was the case for Janeiro.

His face was contorted in a weird expression, and it was more unsettling in person that it was when Fowler showed them the case. The comedian was planted face first in a mixture of vomit and blood. Cautiously, he dipped his fingers into the vile mixture before putting it in his mouth for analysis.

A notification popped up in his vision, and it showed the results of his analysis. The captain was keen on Janeiro being poisoned, and it was no surprise that he was right. Like Rowan, there were trace amounts of poisonous compounds in his blood. However, instead of Oleander, Connor determined the poison to be Ethelyne Glycol, a compound found in common car antifreeze.

He righted his position and looked around to check if he could find any more clues to the poison. He quickly found a discarded container of antifreeze in the trash bin. And upon analysis, he discovered that there was no other prints on them apart from Janeiro's.

Connor was about to hand the container to a scene investigator when Hank steps into the room.

"Got anything?" His gruff voice mumbled.

"His blood contains trace amounts of antifreeze." He then lifts the small cup to Hank's eye level. "I found this container discarded in the trash bin. It seems to have contained antifreeze before it was discarded."

"Did you find prints?"

"Only Janeiro's"

Hank's eyes widened a little before his brows creased in confusion. It was obvious that he shared Connor's suspicious as well.

"Let's look around more." Hank declared, to which Connor agreed.

 

  



	3. the distant sound of a weeping man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People kick up the dust more than they should without being prepared for what they may find.

She walked in the small desolate apartment without preamble before shutting the sliding door tightly. She stripped off her wet clothes and shoes and left them by the door. She picked up a discarded sweater on the couch before padding to her small makeshift kitchen. 

Her eyes felt swollen, even though she had desperately tried not to cry on her way back. She felt numb, and still out of touch. Of all places, she never would have expected a diner to be the one to tell her that her friend is dead.

She stopped in front of her stove and emptied out the contents of the tote bag that she was carrying. The scent of coffee immediately wafted through the air as she started to brew herself a fresh batch. At this point, she was working in auto pilot, grasping at anything to distract her from the grim truth that she was trying to run away from.

She and Richard go way back. He had spotted her nursing a half-empty glass of a cherry popper at the back of a bar after his set. He insulted her drink before calling her a lightweight. She didn't take any offense, she had been a fan of his brand of comedy for a while now and she knew that that was just the way that he talked. After that, they hit it off and he had grown to become one of her most treasured people in the world. And to have that light gone from her life... she just couldn't imagine it. However, this was not her time to mourn. Not yet. She needed to find out what happened to him first and she was determined to get answers.

Once the brew was done, she steeled herself before going to her improvised workstation. She set her mug down before deeply inhaling. She could do this. She sat herself in the middle of a computer set up. Several monitors started powering up as the central processing unit flared. Deft fingers started gliding through the keyboard as frantic eyes hop from monitor to monitor. She didn't know what to look for, but she knew where she should begin. 

She maneuvered around firewall after firewall until she pulled up what she was looking for. The Detroit Police Department's name flashed in bold letters in one of the monitors, and instantly information started to flood through her systems. She did not care for most of them. But as soon as she found the name that she was looking for, she didn't hesitate to jump right in. 

Her eyes scanned what she deemed to be insufficient data for a case. Her eyebrows creased in confusion. She didn't understand. She expected the DPD to be fully into this case, and yet there wasn't much on the case file. 

She then clicked on the scene photos. One after the other, she saw the once pristine-looking apartment to be to be littered with bottles of pain medication. Once she got to the last photo, it was a gruesome picture of her friend. Shock filled her system and a choked sob escaped her trembling lips. Immediately regretting the decision, she closed the tab and heaved a labored breath. She couldn't believe it.  _ That was how he died? _ Seeing his lifeless body in a distorted position made her heart ache for her friend. He had a hard life. He didn't deserve a hard death.

Another hiccup escaped her tight lips as she struggled to not break into hopeless crying. Stray tears started to caress her face and she was too tired to stop it. She closed her eyes, slowly letting herself unravel. The death was starting to sink in. Richard was really gone. 

A ping from one of her monitors snapped her out of her reverie. She wiped her tears hastily and rolled her chair to the side of the alert. 

_ Case file ongoing: New Information Available. _

Here eyes widened. 

_ Proceed? _

She couldn't have clicked 'yes' fast enough.

 

____

 

Connor and Hank had gone through much of the apartment quickly. They had covered all the necessary bases, but have yet to find another clue as big as the container of anti-freeze. Hank seemed to be more disturbed by the discovery, while Connor seemed more puzzled by the case. The question of them handling the case rattled in Hank's mind more than ever, convinced that this isn't something that they were supposed to be investigating about. 

 

The last room that had yet to be explored is the deceased man's bedroom. It was located at the far end of the hallway, closed off from the otherwise open layout of the apartment. The duo slowly entered the room and looked around. The room seemed untouched for a few days. Not even the bed was messy. There was a cabinet that was tucked on the opposite side of the wall and Hank inspected it.

 

"All clear here." Hank said. 

Connor scanned the room one more time, making sure that they were thorough. He approached the work desk of the comedian and noted the data pad and the laptop that was still on. He retracted the skin from his palm and scanned both devices for clues. Hank shot him a questioning look, but Connor shook his head. 

"What's in there then?"

Connor's LED spun yellow for a moment, as if processing the information that he just gathered. 

"Nothing stands out apart from a certificate of candidacy."

"He was gonna run? As what?"

"As a district representative, I believe."

That piece of information may seem trivial, but something about it was nagging at Hank, he just couldn't a finger on it. But whatever it was, they have to update Jeffrey on this immediately. Maybe then the old captain would tell them what was really going on. 

"Alright kid, let's get out of here." Hank said, urging the both of them to go back to the car. 

The android detective and the lieutenant started to make their way out of the room when something caught Connor's eye. It was haphazardly placed on the bedside drawer. It appeared to be a small rectangular metal, with no distinguishable markings. When he scanned them for prints, only Janeiro's were found on them once again. 

"That's a jump drive. Never thought I'd see one of those again in pristine condition." Hank commented when he saw him lift it up to the light. "Can you scan it?"

Connor retracted his skin and attempted to scan the device, to no avail.

"Alright. Let's get this evidence registered. Then we report back to Fowler."

Connor nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant."

Tying up loose ends in the apartment didn't take much time, and pretty soon they were walking back to the car in silence. Hank was still deep in thought, still caught up in the odd clues that they have found out so far. 

He thought back to Janeiro's background. He was a known activist for years now, and he wasn't afraid to back down from any opponent of his cause. He had done so without political power for years now, so why was he looking to pursue a political career? Hank put those thoughts in the back of his mind. For now, they need to see if there was any progress with the evidence. 

Neither of the duo noticed the drive back to the station, conversation animated as ever. Hank voiced out his concern on Janeiro's motive as to running for office. And Connor briefed him on more of the case details that they had so far. They stopped for a quick bite to eat before following up on the jump drive. 

Connor and Hank swiftly walked into the Computer Forensics Department and looked for the tech guy who was assigned to crack the jump drive. He was relatively easy to spot. In the middle of the room sits a man with bright blond curls that sat in different directions on his head. He was hunched over his terminal, deep in concentration. Connor and Hank approached him cautiously. 

"Excuse me, sir. But are you Gregory Nile?" Connor asks. 

The tech guy turns around and gives him a surprised reaction. "Holy shit it's Robocop." 

Hank narrowed his eyes at the man. He was about to say something insulting to him, but Connor replied with a soft "Pardon?"

As if snapping out of it, Greg flushes in embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It-I just didn't expect I'd get to meet you. In the flesh. Well, not flesh flesh but-" 

Hank sighed. "Kid, we don't have much time." 

In an instant, Greg clamped his mouth shut and flushed a deeper shade of red and gulped. "O-of course, Lieutenant Anderson." He turns his attention back to his terminal. "Anyway, you can just call me Greg. And I'm sure you're here for the jump drive."

"Yeah, what do you got?"

Greg quickly typed something, and instantly there was a loud beep that came from the terminal. The word 'ERROR' flashed in big bold letters on the screen, and neither Hank nor Connor could make sense of it.

"I'm afraid it's encrypted. I tried many ways to open it, and trust me I know a lot, but it won't budge." He then proceeded to type something else on the keyboard. The monitor went back to its usual DPD home screen before the error message popped again. 

"I need more time to try everything I've got. I might bring my gear in, if needed."

Hank shoots him a questioning look. "Gear?"

A smug smile flashed on Greg's face. "I was a former hacker before the DPD hired me. Pretty cool, right?" His smile dimmed a little when all he got was a blank stare. "Anyway, maybe you can come back-"

The screen flared to life once again and it wasn't the error code or the DPD home screen that showed. Instead, a flurry of codes flashed through the screen in rapid succession. Greg was immediately alarmed and completely turned his attention back to the monitor.

"Hey, what's going on?" Hank asked.

Greg tensed for a moment. “Someone's trying to access my source files."  A tsk escaped his lips. “We’re under attack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have been enjoying the series so far! If you're new here, thank you for taking time to read this. I really appreciate it! Don't hesitate to reach out to me, if you would please. Have a great day!


	4. now my neck is open wide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeletons start to fall out. Pieces fall into place.

The screen started to flash in an alarming speed. A flood of codes took over the screen and Greg did his best to counter them with everything he had. He wasn’t entirely sure, but the codes look like it was designed to take over the whole precinct’s system. If anything, he takes pride in his skills, so he won’t let some internet punk hack into the sophisticated security that took months to set up. So here he was, firing virus after virus at their would-be attacker, and trying to protect their files at the same time.

Normally a cyber attack could last for about two minutes with detrimental consequences. The longer it would take to contain it, the more damage it has dealt. Internally, he started counting as soon as he saw the codes infiltrating his system. He was a few seconds late from syncing with the hacker, but it should not have mattered much because of the counterattack that he prepared. But now it’s almost a minute, nothing but the frantic typing filling in the silence of the three. He was sweating bullets - Greg didn’t even know if he was succeeding or not. All he knew was that his ass would be so fired if he failed this, and in front of a famous lieutenant too.

At exactly a minute, the codes stopped coming. Suddenly, all his viruses and counter attacks launched without a destination. His security system was back on. The flare of the DPD home screen greeted the three puzzled individuals as they tried to process what just happened. He typed a few more commands into the system to double check the damage, but have found none.

“Okay, now can you explain to us what the fuck was that?” Hank asked.

“Looks like it was an attack to take down our systems. The attacker likely wanted to gather information and had to go about it the hard way.” Greg explained while still furiously typing on his keyboard. The least he could do was to trace that fucker. “Don’t worry though, it looks like they didn’t get anything from us.”

Connor looked pensive, his spinning yellow for a brief moment. “That looked like an advanced attack. Has anything else like this happened before?”

Greg shook his head. “Not since I got hired here. I reinforced all of our firewalls and managed to deflect every would-be assaults in the past month or so.”

“I might be able to help.” He retracted his synthetic skin and attempted to touch his monitor, to which Greg blocked.   
“I’m sorry, detective. But I can’t let you do that.” He answered sheepishly. “My terminal not only contains several viruses that could potentially disturb your program, but we almost got attacked. Who knows what that fucker left me.”

He raised a brow. “I could assure you, I have the most advanced software enough to combat whatever that might be.”

“Yeah, but would you risk it, though?” He turned back to his terminal. “I mean, look here. No signs of anything yet. It’s gonna take some time for me to flush my systems. And frankly, I don’t want to be the one to be blamed when you start acting all weird.”

Connor had a retort ready at the tip of his tongue, but Hank placed a gentle hand on his shoulders. “Okay, kid. We’ll leave you to it. Call us when you have something.” The android did not look content with the decision, but one look from the lieutenant made him stand down.

Greg looks grateful for the save. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

The pair then stepped out of the Computer Forensics department and went back to Homicide. All of their leads are currently being worked on by their labs, so it was time to report back to Fowler. Once they got inside the glass office, the captain immediately tensed.

“Well?” His gruff voice echoed through the office, expectant.

Much like he did that morning, Hank plopped himself down on the couch and rested his chin on his wrinkled knuckles.

“Toxicology came back from the Rowan case and it suggests that he ingested Oleander sometime before he died. It’s a type of poison that would fuck around your system enough for it to cause a heart attack.”

An unreadable expression crossed Fowler. “What else?”

The old lieutenant raised an eyebrow at his friend’s reaction, but he continued. “Connor found poison in Janeiro’s system. Though, it was a different kind of poison from Rowan.” He turned to his partner, urging him to continue.

Connor locked eyes with the captain’s hard gaze. “It was Ethelyne Glycol, Captain. Unlike Oleander, this targets the digestive and endocrine system. We found a container for it in a trash bin near the body. No other prints were found except for Jainero’s.”

Fowler’s eyes widened a fraction. “Were there no other murder weapon in the premise?”

Hank shook his head. “No, Jeffrey. No suicide note either. So this means that we either have an android suspect, or Janeiro didn’t bother to leave one.”

Hank observed the look of frustration the captain had on his face morph into something more unreadable as they told him more. “What’s going on?”

He looked at his longtime friend, as if searching for something in his eyes before finally caving.

“This does not leave this office, do you understand?” The heavy weight of the captain’s voice pierced through Connor and Hank. They nodded in response.

Fowler sighed. “I don’t have any evidence for this yet, but I have reason to believe that these deaths are hate crimes towards androids.”

Hank rose an eyebrow. “Androids? But we have two human victims. What could have convinced you to think that?”

“Was there anything else in Janeiro’s apartment that stood out for you?”

Hank thought hard for a while before something dawned on him. He looked to Connor, and by the way his LED was spinning yellow, he must have had the same thing in mind. “Is this connected to Janeiro running for office?”

“Janeiro was a well-known activist throughout his life and he wasn’t shy about pursuing legislation about androids. He was about to announce his intentions sometime next week but someone got to him first.”

“And what about Rowan, sir?” Connor asked.

“Rowan’s not an activist like Janeiro was, but I am to believe that he has shown blatant disagreement about how our politics is shying away from android laws. He has a far reach, as much as media influence would go.” He hesitated, before adding a sheepish confession. “I didn’t look into it much, but his wife seems convinced that someone killed him. And Janeiro’s death is just too coincidental.”

He took a good look at his best lieutenant and his android partner. It looked like he wanted to say more, but he refrained from doing so. “Anything else?”

As if snapping out of the tense atmosphere, Hank shifted in his seat and scratched his beard. “Yeah. We also found a jump drive in the Janeiro’s bedroom. Pristine condition, considering those things are obsolete. We got it analyzed down Com’s but while we were there the tech’s terminal went haywire.”

‘It seemed that someone launched a cyber attack at the tech’s terminal. The would-be hacker wanted to take over our systems, but he managed to stop it.” Connor adds.

At this the captain raised a brow. “Update me on the contents of that jump drive… and the attack.”

Hank and Connor gave the captain an affirmative before turning to leave the glass office. As they were walking towards their desk, Hank turned to Connor.

“Hey kid. If we’d go to Rowan’s, do you think we’re gonna find another jump drive?”

Connor thought for a bit.  “We would have about a 20 percent chance of finding one, Lieutenant. If the Captain is keen on finding a connection between the two, we might likely find one.” He tilts his head to the side. “How did the captain reach to a reaching conclusion to the case, Lieutenant?”

Hank sighed as he got up from his chair. “Sometimes, it’s just intuition that guides you through this job. Come on, son. Let’s get out of here.”

_____

A few days have passed and most of the things that they had going on were slowing. They’ve managed to snag a pass that would let them investigate the Rowan property without causing much commotion. Things were progressing at a pretty decent pace and Hank took this opportunity to contemplate on the case that they were assigned.

The duo stopped by Chicken Feed for breakfast, much to Connor’s chargin. And no matter how much he reminded the lieutenant about the nutritional value of his meal, he payed the android no heed. As he got his food, he caught wind of the conversation about the impending android laws that were cooking up.

“Hey Connor, how are things going along with Markus anyway?” Hank asked before taking a bite of his double cheeseburger.

Connor paused for a moment, before giving up on scolding Hak over his unhealthy meal. “The last update I’ve gotten from them showed great progress with the legislations.”

“Oh? Do you guys have enough power though? Most of our lawmakers are bastards, if you know what I mean.”

The android’s face turned contemplative, before smiling his boyish smile.

“I’m pretty sure we can work something out.”

Hank studied his optimistic expression. He supposed the android had a point. If they could succeed at a peaceful revolution, they would find a way to push for their rights on paper as well. He just hope that, for Connor’s sake, thee case they were handling isn’t going to throttle his confidence.

After their stop  at Chicken Feed, they headed straight to the Rowan household. Mrs. Rowan was surprisingly cooperative when they had arrived. She was eager enough to let out vital information for the case. They asked more about his profile and what she remembered about the last few days about her late husband. When asked about a jump drive, she wasn’t sure about having one in her house, but she allowed the two to look around.

It was then when they discovered the second jump drive, nestled between the bookshelves of Rowan’s study. It was in the same mint condition that they found the first drive, and when he scanned the pristine jump drive, all he found was Rowan’s prints on them. This, too, was a drive that Connor was not able to scan. Afterwards, the pair gathered the evidence they collected and thanked Mrs. Rowan for her time. Now, it was time to follow up on their other lead.

Connor pauses for a moment while they were walking back to the car. The lieutenant dutifully waited for his partner, hoping it would be the break that they were waiting for.

“It’s from Greg. He says he’s got something for us.”

Hank smiled. “Took him long enough.”

The pair immediately went back to the precinct to meet with the tech. Finally, they felt like there was some progress in the case.


	5. till my veins run red and blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When paths cross, there is no turning back.

Hank and Connor found the blond tech slightly disheveled with all kinds of weird apparatus scattered around his work station. Several of them oddly beeped at random intervals, and that both annoyed and intrigued Hank. Connor looked more comfortable in the situation. And knowing him, he probably understood the small chaos that was scattered on the tech’s table.

“Greg?” Connor called the attention of the tech.

The tech seemed to jump out of his skin. Wide honey colored eyes whirred towards the pair, but seeing the two made him calmed down. Greg gave them a sheepish greeting before getting down to business.

“Okay, so it was a total bitch to get rid of, but I’ve managed to break those protective codes. And when I thought the challenge was over, the codes on the inside are practically gibberish.”  Greg gestured Connor to examine the codes that were flashing on the screen.

Connor’s brows suddenly met in the middle as he scrutinized the codes. He turned to Greg, who mirrored his puzzled expression. “This came from the drive?” When he answered him with a nod, he turned his attention to the lieutenant.

“I find these vaguely familiar. Yet, I do not know how to make of it.” He inspected the codes more closely, fingers itching to connect to the terminal. “These codes look like they are embedded within another coding language altogether.”

Greg seemed to consider this. “I agree. It’s in a different calibre from whatever I’ve seen before.”

The lieutenant raised a brow at the conversation. It was one thing that the tech couldn’t understand it, but Connor too? For someone as advanced as Connor to not distinguish a string of functions is mildly alarming. Apparently, the android detective shared the same sentiments as he, with the way his LED was frantically spinning yellow.

This case was getting more convoluted the more it unraveled. And something nagged him that they’ve barely scratched the surface. He then grabbed the sealed bag from his pocket, he shoved the freshly picked evidence to the tech’s caramel hands.  

“Find out if this contains the same codes.”

The tech examined the drive and nodded absentmindedly. He was staring at them so intently, like if he did it long enough it would unravel on his own.

“I can’t even find a signature in it. Most coders leave some sort of imprint in their work. But this? Wiped clean. ” Deft fingers then proceeded to type functions into the system and the codes from the drive continued to flow in a flurry.

“Makes it harder to trace, then.”

Greg nodded. “Right? You know, I have half the brain to ask for some outside help about this. They might know more about it.”

“Is it legal?” Connor asked. The embarrassed spluttering Hank tried to contain had not gone unnoticed by the tech. A small chuckle escaped him. “Barely. I mean, I’m not gonna lie. TOA’s rap sheet isn’t the cleanest.”

Connor raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “TOA?” He paused, yellow LED flashing for a moment. “A hacker?”

The computer tech nodded. “That’s right.”

“And why are we going to this person, exactly?” Hank chimed in.

Greg’s eyes lit up like christmas lights. “Cause TOA is one of the best.” He gushed. “I mean sure, they’d been alleged involved in downright shady shit, but at some point they were rumored to be involved with the FBI and the military. So they might be useful to us.”

Hank looked pensive for a moment. “Alright, I’ll bite. How the hell do we find this guy then?”

The excitement on the tech’s face melted into a sheepish smile. “Well, that’s the thing. _If_ we managed to contact them. They went under about a year ago. Nobody knows where they’ve gone to. I’ll try my best to sniff them out though.”

“Alright. Find out everything you can on this. Find this TOA person too if you can.” He turned back to his partner. “Ready to head on out?”

But when Hank saw Connor’s serious expression frozen in place, he knew something was wrong. Connor then turned to him, urgency in his features.

“We have another homicide, lieutenant.”

Well, there goes his plans for lunch.

\-----

The duo hurried to the scene, the call still hot on their mind. Dispatch seemed eager, if not frantic, to get the to the office building. It was another high-profile victim, a well-known journalist named Marin Aragon. During the car ride, Connor briefed Hank about her. She had been in the business for about two decades now, and is said to be one of the most beloved journalists in the Detroit scene. But her death is vastly different from the other two. This time, there was no mistaking that she was killed.

When they got to the office, the first thing that they noticed was that the space was in a state of disarray. Multiple pieces of furniture were turned over, shards of the what was once a glass table were all over the place, and everything looked like it sat in blood. And dab smack in the center of the chaos lied the dead journalist’s body, disjointed in a grotesque manner.

Her arms looked like they were flailing; her legs were bent in a direction Connor knew wasn’t where it was supposed to go. However, her face remained impassive, as if unperturbed by the disorder that surrounds her. Somehow, Connor felt troubled by her serene expression than everything else.

“This is a mess.” Hank said as he eyed the trashed space. Connor couldn’t help but to agree.

As the scene investigators took their sweep at the evidences, Connor also did his best to start take in clues for himself. He took tentative steps on the body to make sure he doesn’t disturb its position before bending down and swiping on her blood. When he found no signs of poison in her system, he scanned the body for a possible cause of death.

“I found 28 stab wounds on her, Lieutenant. 27 of them seemed like it was placed randomly.” Connor stated matter-of-factly when his partner joined him. “However this,” He gestured to a particular stab wound located below her left breast. “Was the first and the likely fatal blow. The wound looks like it punctured a lung and a heart. She bled out from there.”

Hank’s expression shifted to a troubled one. “Seems to me like the killer knew what he was doing.” He couldn’t help the disgruntled curse that passed through his lips. They were already having enough trouble with the first cases. They didn’t need another one that looks far too political for his liking.

“Also…” Connor continued as he reached for the victim’s mouth. He found it odd that of all places that were unhinged, her mouth was also dislocated - though not terribly so. He reached out and dropped her jaw, finding something shiny on the inside. Connor reached out and pulled out the object.

“Jesus Christ..” He heard Hank mutter from behind.

It was another jump drive.

Both shared a quick look with each other and made the same conclusion. Connor’s eyes piqued in interest, while Hank’s grew troubled. If anything, he knew there would be a one hell of a report that they were gonna do.

After surrendering the jump drive for evidence, both Hank and Connor made quick work at the office. Hank gave his input here and there as Connor discussed more about the body and the crime scene. They both agreed that the thrashed room was an obvious sign that the victim struggled. Connor recreated the scene and found that Aragon was pushed towards her oak table and it was then that she hit her head and lost consciousness before she was inevitably killed.

All of the blood in the room were hers. And like all the other crime scenes, there was no sign of a fingerprint or any other imprint another person might have left behind. With all of the evidence gathered with them, the duo decided to regroup and leave the scene. Hank should have expected that they were gonna find another jump drive. But it still shocked him to see one there. _‘In her damn mouth, no less.’_

Connor made a mental checklist on what they would have to accomplish afterwards, noting several details that should be mentioned when they go back to Fowler for an update. Figuring that food would be a great way to curb the lieutenant’s fouling mood, he suggested they would take a break out to lunch.

“Well, at least Chicken Feed doesn’t make you jump through hoops.” Hank commented at the mention of food.

“Actually lieutenant, I was thinking you should try the newly opened diner down by the train station. Its past patrons raved about its great yet inexpensive meals.”

Hank was about to argue that he’d rather have the comforting grease of questionable chicken, but he just so happened to stare at the android’s pleading eyes.

“Tch. Will it stop you from nagging about my diet all the time?”

Connor brightened visibly. “Of course, lieutenant.”

The diner was only a short ways from where they were and it did not take long for them to arrive at the quaint diner. It was a small hole-in-the-wall, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. Although the screen mounted near the counter ruined some of the overall rustic vibe, he found that he could forgive that.

Hank had got to admit, Connor’s judgement of the place was pretty good so far. Though it wasn’t like he doubted his judgement anyway. The android had been nagging about his diet and had been bugging him about considering healthier options for food. He probably wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been searching for a food joint that would fit his preferences.

He became more impressed when the actual food arrived. Sure, it was still chicken, but it was garnished with vegetables that actually looks edible and not drowning in grease.

“Really kid, how did you find this place?” He asks, after a bite of his burger. Color him totally impressed. The food was as good as it looked.

Connor smiled. “I just happened to hear about it in the park when I was walking Sumo. I’ve searched on the diner and found that a lot of people enjoy this place. I hoped that you might like it as well.”

“Food’s not half bad.” Hank shot back before taking another bite.

Connor left the lieutenant to his food, glad that he was enjoying himself. He took out his coin and started flipping it between his fingertips. The android looked out the window, gaze far as the coin rolled between his digits with ease.

It bothered him a little bit that most of their case still had large holes in between them, not even taking into account the handicap that they had to operate covertly. He fully intended to review the case and their evidences so far in his mind while the lieutenant enjoyed his meal. But before he even got to gloss over the details of their first body, his thoughts were interrupted by a commotion by the train station. He glanced at Hank, who gave him a small nod.

The lieutenant placed his half eaten burger down on the table and slid out of the booth. Then they both ran to the scene where a small crowd had gathered. Connor made sure to call for backup before rushing into the scene.

What was there made them both on edge. Another body dropped dead, but this time he was an android. Hank shot Connor a look of understanding and he made quick work of getting the crowd back and giving the android detective some wiggle room.

Connor scanned the immediate surroundings for anything out of the ordinary, but his preliminary assessment did not yield any results. He turned back to the android who mysteriously dropped dead. His eyes widened, he recognized this android. In fact, he has worked with him before.

He identified the man as Maximus Clarence, a PJ500 android model who, after the revolution, converted into one of Detroit’s first ever android lawyer that represented androids. He was one of the androids that Josh introduced to help translate their android rights into writing while Connor was still active in the committee.

“This day is such a pain in the ass.” He could hear Hank complain about another body added to their roster and what sick amount of luck they have that this all happened right in the middle of the lunch that he was enjoying. And although Connor was inclined to agree with the lieutenant on how the day had went, he couldn’t completely commit to his father figure’s whining, mind still on the android that seemingly dropped dead. The android kneeled and started to scan the body, hoping to find a viable cause of death.

“Hey, I told you to back up!”

Connor’s head shot back up to the crowd only to lock eyes with a pale woman with one of the most deepest eyes that he had ever laid eyes on. For a moment, he had felt almost captive by the gaze, before deep China blue turned alarmed, almost fearful.

That snapped Connor out of his reverie, and instinctively scanned the woman’s face for her identity. He memorized the way shadows chased under her eyes and the pale complexion that contrasted her dark brunette hair haphazardly thrown under a black baseball cap. But his gaze sharpened, more so when he saw her frantically move away from the crowd. Her identity was not in his records.

Quick to his feet, he shot up to give chase to the woman. He finessed his way through the crowd, trying to locate the brunette hair and black cap combination that the woman sported. But when he got to the end of the crowd, she was nowhere to be seen. It was like she never existed at all.

He couldn’t help the grunt of frustration.

“Damn it.”


	6. but you were familiar yet not the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alliances, like everything else, can be broken and bent

Fowler could feel the knots in his back tighten when he got the report of the latest body that they were catering. With such a blatant act of killing, there certainly was no mistaking that his theories were pointing to the right direction.

He took a pensive glance at the screen playing the news clip about the murder that took place on the train station. Sure enough, the city was becoming more and more agitated the higher the body count rose. Adding to the fact that each of the murdered victims were well-known people around the city.

A shrill sound resounded around the glass panels of his office. Fowler peeled his gaze from the news clip to the phone ringing beside him. A part of him wanted to ignore the call, but seeing the caller ID made him do otherwise.

“Markus.”

He pauses for a moment, allowing the android on the other line to speak. He wasn’t all that surprised that Markus had caught wind of the situation so soon. The android leader would always be on top of things even when he was out of state.

“One of yours?” Fowler couldn’t help the surprise to color his words.

A sigh escaped his mouth and a hand flies up to his face to massage his temples. “Alright. I’ll be expecting you soon.”

He murmurs a polite goodbye before ending the call and carelessly dumping his phone back to the table. The old captain stays like that for a moment, massaging his temples to fight off the oncoming headache. Briefly, he wonders if he could just skip the day altogether.

“Bad timing?” A rough voice greeted from his door. He looked up to see Hank and Connor enter mirroring the same troubled expression he probably had.

He shook his head in response and gestured the free chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.” He called out before righting himself up as well.

The old captain figured that they had a rough day too. Fowler steeled himself as Hank ungracefully plops down the chair and makes himself comfortable, followed by Connor’s fluid minimal motions.

“Alright so, which part of the shit show do you want to start with?”  

“Start with Aragon first. It seems that her death is the most troubling we’ve had so far."

“Got that right.” Hank grumbled. “You should have seen her in person, Jeffrey. Looked like a professional hit, if I ever did see one.”

“The scene was obviously staged. Though judging by the chaos by her desk it showed genuine signs of struggle.” Hank continued to stare at his friend, gauging his reaction. “But the most damning thing was how the victim was mutilated on purpose to hide that perfect cut just right under her left breast.”

“Well, if you put it that way, her death might be caused by her line of work.”

Hank nodded his head. “Yeah, I thought so too. Until we found a flash drive lodged in her mouth and changed everything.” He saw his old friend close his eyes, as if willing himself to process the information. “She’s part of the case, Jeffrey.”

Fowler opened his eyes and schooled his face. “Did you find anything that would tie her to anything android-related?”

“We haven’t dug up much, since we were the first ones to respond to the train station case.” He said. “But from the preliminary search I had Connor do, she’s an android rights supporter. Vocal, too. She’s been hosting different charity events to help the laws push into legislation.”

“Well that explains that.” the captain muttered under his breath.

“Seems like Markus and his crew will be back in Detroit earlier than expected.” The old captain noticed Connor straightened for a moment. “He said that a few of his has been killed and he needs to look into that.”

He eyed the android detective, locking eyes with the android. “I would have assumed that he was talking about the victim at the train station. Seems like connections run deep.”

“You would be correct on that, Captain.” His smooth voice easily joined the conversation. “Ever since the successful end of the android revolution, Jericho has been making progress extending its networks, be it human or android.”

“It’s a surprise how a person such as Aragon would be so receptive to the idea.” Hank commented.

“Well regardless, it’s one of the reasons why tensions are so high the closer the preliminary android laws finish. Some humans feel like they were selling out their own kind.” Fowler added. “How about Clarence? What caused his death? A PJ500 isn’t likely to drop dead just like that.”

“When I tried to scan his internal programming, I found that I could not able to. It was as if he never had internal programming to begin with.”

Hank furrowed his brows. “So you mean whoever killed Clarence turned him into an actual piece of plastic?”

“Well, that’s one way to put it, lieutenant.” 

“Send his body to the labs. Maybe they’re gonna find something within his external parts that could offer us a clue.”

“It’s been done, Captain.” Connor noted. His LED started to whirl in a bright yellow hue. His mind went back to the woman that was in the crowd and he figured this would be a good time as any to bring her up.

“I do believe I might have a suspect, sir.” He turned to the captain. “I saw her at the scene when the lieutenant was doing crowd control while we were waiting for backup. However when I scanned her face, I found no records of any sort of identity belonging to her in any of my databases.”

Connor kept his eyes on the captain as he regurgitates the information. He had been expecting sort of a weird blow up, much like what Hank did when he relayed the information, especially when he noted that she managed to escape his tailing.

“Were you able to chase her?” Was all the response he got from the captain.

He shot a confused glance to Hank, who was equally perplexed by his friend’s lack of reaction.

“Unfortunately, I lost her in the sea of the crowd, sir. I am aware that I should not have been able to, but it was like she was never there in the first place.”

Seemingly taking the information in stride, the captain merely commented. “Get a hold of the CCTV video footage of every street in Detroit. She must not have gone far.” Both detectives shared a look, one that Fowler did not fail to miss.

After a beat, Fowler turned back to his lieutenant. “Is Clarence connected with the laws too?”

“If I may,” Connor interrupted, a hit of edge on his voice. “Mr. Clarence was one of the core androids who were writing the first drafts. He was introduced to us before I decided to step back.”

Connor noted the surprise in Hank’s eyes, as well as the way Fowler’s shifted in his seat. For a moment, Connor noted that there was a tense air that passed by the walls of the glass office. His gaze went from the hard eyes of the captain to the slight glint in the lieutenant’s eyes whenever he pieced together jumbled evidence. Everyone in the room knew that they were now dealing with four high-profiled deaths.

A sigh escaped Hank. This case was becoming too overwhelming at an alarming rate. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to rid the tiredness that was starting to seep into his bones. He needed a drink real bad.

“So much for being quiet about it.”

Fowler scoffed. “The anti-android people are going to have a field day about this.”

Hank smiled ruefully. “Tell me about it. Miller said there isn’t news of riots yet, but I’d expect some soon.”

Connor bristled at that comment. He was aware that pushing for legislation was no easy task, but the idea of so much push back from humans still surprise him from time to time. The android noted that he needed to talk to Markus as soon as he returned back to Detroit.  

“Jeffrey, this isn’t something that we can hide anymore. With deaths too public and too brutal, it’s like-” A thought struck the lieutenant. “It’s like they want our attention, or something.”

Fowler shook his head. “I don’t think it’s us they want to send a message to.”

Hank leveled his old friend with a hard look but the captain opted to ignore it.

“Come back when you have something on Clarence’s cause of death. Go home for the day. It’s been a rough one.”

He was expecting Hank to put up more of a fight, but when the lieutenant got up and left the office without preamble with his android partner tailing behind him, he let out a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding.

In the residual quiet of his now empty office, the cold realization that it was getting harder to keep his promise as the days pass. He didn’t like to admit it, but he dreaded the time when he could no longer keep it.

____

Later that night, Connor allowed Hank to drink more than a bottle of Jack. It was apparent to him that his stress levels were starting to strain him with one body after the other. And with what looks like the captain withdrawing possible vital information from them, that fact exacerbated the lieutenant's already sour mood.

So the following day, he suggested that they would visit the same diner that they were the day before. He assumed that Hank enjoyed the food there enough to warrant a second trip. What’s more, he had a really strong feeling that they needed to be there again.

But it surprised Connor that Hank would actually agree to his proposed breakfast joint. Albeit relieved that the old man was starting to consider healthier choices on his diet, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy about his suggestion.

He knew very well that emotions were difficult to master. Most humans have their whole lives to encounter different circumstances and many years of practice before they could confidently identify and handle each head on. Although, there were some feelings that he quickly understood, like joy whenever he gives Sumo a good belly rub. But now, he feels a little lost, unable to identify what that nagging feeling he had.

“Hank?” He voiced, unsure, as they walked towards the impala.

“Yeah, son?”

He stops and looks to the side, unsure of how to proceed. He took to consulting his father figure with regards to deciphering emotions rather than looking it up on countless of resources. He found that he understood and appreciated the man’s guidance more.

“When is it appropriate to say that something is going to happen?”

Hank raises a brow at the question. “You mean like a gut feeling?” When Connor shoots him a confused expression, he urged on.

“You know, like a feeling you get on your-” he started to gesture towards his abdominal area but when the android tilted his head to the side, he knew the gesture isn’t getting through him. “Well, like something nagging at the back of your head. Something that tells you something’s gonna happen.”

Connor looked pensive for a moment. “I think I am feeling that nagging sensation.” He said before resuming walking to the car.

“Oh, what’s it about?”

“I feel something significant will happen to us when we get there. It’s why I suggested we visit the diner again.” He opens the door and gracefully slides in. “I believe it is similar to how you thought we were going to get another jump drive on the Rowan case.”

The car’s engine roared to life and the duo headed towards the aforementioned diner. Hank chuckled. He had a feeling he was right.   

The drive to the hole-in-the-wall was a short and it was filled with amiable silence filled with a track from a recent album of the Knights of the Black Death. Connor may not have preferred them when he first deviated, but Hank’s insistence, and his threats to have Connor walking on some occasions, have made him grow somewhat of a tolerance to them.

They arrived at record time and each stepped out of the car enthusiastically. Hank did not hide the obvious fact that he was looking forward for more delicious food. However when Connor turned to follow him, something across the street caught his eye. When he turned, his eyes caught a wisp of those mesmerising China blue eyes that he practically etched in his memory banks.

“It’s her.” He voiced out loud before turning back to the lieutenant. “It’s the woman I saw yesterday. The one without the identity.”

Hank raised an eyebrow and eyed the small coffee shop across the street warily.

“Alright, I got it. I’ll get it for take out.”

Connor smiled. “Thank you, lieutenant.”  

The android detective couldn’t help the small eagerness in his step as he practically sprinted to the dingy coffee studio across the street. He made a beeline towards the studio and yanked the door open, mildly surprised that the doors weren’t automated. The small clang of a bell immediately announced his arrival. A small chipper greeting was heard from one of the servers on the floor, but he paid it no mind and instead focused on the figure perusing the display case.

“One Espressino.” She turns to the barista handing her a drink. She then pulls out a plastic card and handed it in exchange for her beverage.

Connor immediately zoomed in on the card and its embossed name and committed it to memory. Immediately, he ran the name across many of his databases, but he still found no records of a person existing clipped with that name. Nevertheless, it consoled him that at least he finally knew something about her - a lead, if anything.

He deemed that it was time for him to make his presence known.


	7. hands go up and knees go down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes, you can't fight the current; doesn't mean you shouldn't try

Connor approached her and tapped her shoulder lightly. “Excuse me, but I can’t help but notice how lovely your name is. It’s Greek, isn’t it?”

The android detective eyed her posture. Her shoulders stiffened and there was a soft gasp that she exclaimed. Briefly, he wondered if she would stay rigid - hostile even; and was preparing to respond to several different ways to subdue a hysterical woman. But his ideas of a hostile confrontation quickly dissipated when he saw her shoulders sag - albeit forcefully. 

“Yes, it is. Thank you.” She commented, turning to face her fully. “Where did you see my name?” Connor could hear a small inflection in her voice hinting that she was trying to feign innocence. He knew she knew where he had seen it. 

Connor pointed to the thin black plastic that the barista was still fiddling with. She followed his line of sight, before shooting him a small side eye.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m Detective Connor from the Detroit Police Department, and I would like you to come with me back to the station for questioning.” Connor met her with an unwavering gaze. “We strongly believe that you are somehow involved with the death of Maximillius Clarence.”

The android noticed a flurry of emotions flashed in her eyes, despite her efforts to maintain her impassive expression. However, her body looked like it was torn between its responses with what would most likely be her fight or flight instincts. He noted that her fingers started to tremble as she tried her best to keep her small drink upright. Blue eyes slowly eyed the door behind the android and Connor wondered if she would be bold enough to make a break for it. 

But what shocked him was how quick it was for her to switch emotions once again. The once expressive blue eyes dulled and she forcibly relaxed her stance.  A sigh escaped her cracked lips before splitting into a small, resigned smile. 

“Alright. Just wait a moment.” She said, before turning her back from him. She didn’t even wait for his reply.  Connor then watched her turn to the barista who shot her a look of quiet concern. He watched her hand her cooling drink to the barista and shot her an apologetic smile. 

“Can I get this as the coffee base for an iced coffee mocha instead?” She paused, as if considering something. “And also a small box of bagels, please.”

The android watched the whole scene unfold. The suspect seemed calm and collected despite her earlier trepidation; even when the barista was shooting her with wary looks. With fluid moments, the barista did as she was asked, and the suspect made no move to acknowledge him. For a strange ripple in the moment, it looked like another ordinary coffee run for that woman. Yet, that illusion was broken once she turned back to him, the air of strange resignation clouding her demeanor once again. 

“Lead the way, detective.” She gestured to the analog door, and then to her full hands. Connor studied the woman for a moment. Her demeanor was now relaxed, a cold coffee drink perfectly balanced on one hand, while a small white box adorned with a pink ribbon on the other. She hardly looked suspicious at a glance. But then, Connor decided, things are never to be trusted at first glance. 

He opened the door for her and instructed her and gestured for her to go first. Afterwards, he led her across the street, Hank already waiting for him in the car eating his take out. She followed quietly, sipping her drink with gusto. 

Hank eyed the duo heading towards his direction with a wary eye. His gaze trailed on the unsuspecting woman comfortably holding baked goods in her hands while sipping on cold coffee on the other. To even have something like that was absurd for the old lieutenant. How she managed to think about breakfast at this time, he didn’t know. 

As he crumpled the wrapper for his own breakfast, he asserted his presence towards the pair. Hank greeted Connor with a nod before shooting the woman with a questioning gaze. 

“This her?”

“This I.” The woman replied, more chipper than he expected. Come to think of it, she was probably the only suspect that they have had that was almost happy to be arrested. 

“Lieutenant Hank, this is Telesilla Argos. She has agreed to come to the station with us for questioning regarding the murder case of Maximillius Clarence.”

He continued to give the woman a doubtful gaze, to which she matched with her own relaxed posture. It was as if she wasn’t at all bothered by what was happening to her. He just hoped they didn’t have a nutjob on their hands. 

“Get in. Don’t spill anything in the car.”

____

What started as a simple refill for coffee before digging back to work blew out of proportion exponentially. She had been careless, that much she was sure. But she didn’t expect her slip ups to snowball into things that were way out of her control. She wasn’t used to not having the ball in her court - and with her sitting alone in a grey interrogation room made it all the more evident to her that she wasn’t calling all the shots here. A wave of frustration started to bubble to the surface and it was getting harder to keep the blasé appearance.But she knew she had to keep it up. And she needed a plan fast.

China blue eyes snapped to attention when she heard the door slide open. She was a little surprised that it was Lieutenant Hank who was sent to her for interrogation and not the android. She enforced her relaxed posture with a sip of her cafe mocha, the bitter esspresso rolling on her tongue kept her energized. She watched him open a manila envelope and studied it for a bit. 

“Alright kid, let’s do this. Let’s start with who you are.”

Her brow twitched in response. Well, this certainly was beginning to be interesting. 

“Name?”

“Telesilla Argos.”

“Where are you from?”

“Detroit.”

“Oh?” Hank let the mild surprise color his words. “Originally from here?”

“Nah. I’ve moved a lot when I was a kid. Settled in Detroit after a while.”

She glanced at his calm, knowing full well that she would have to dance with him on this one. An idea started to plant itself in her brain, and Telesilla would need to find the right moment to execute it. 

“Where do you like it best, kid?”

A smile seemed to flutter at a memory. “I like it near oceans.” 

Hank regarded her answer with scrutiny. She was used to these kinds of faces, always assessing the truth behind her words. Telesilla guessed that he got this from years of experience as an interrogator. 

“How old are you?” He asks again, seeming to accept her answer.

“26.”

“Any relatives around the city?”

Her eyes narrowed, something that both Hank and the android detective noticed. For a moment, her posture became closed off, but she was quick to cover it up with a delicate sip of her coffee.

“Is this relevant?” She asked, letting the grace bleed into her movements. She never took her eyes off the lieutenant whose gaze didn’t waver. 

“It’s just for profiling.” He answered after a beat. 

An easy smile came to her. “I’m pretty sure you should already have pulled up mine by now, officer. We can move on to why I’m here instead of in the comfort of my own home.” 

The easy atmosphere that the interrogation room slowly dissipated as Telesilla’s dismissal of Hank’s question raised flags for the two officers. Their little get-to-know did not go as planned, but at least they got something. Now, he just hoped that this would be enough information for Connor to dig deeper. 

“I’m here because you saw me when that android died that afternoon, correct?” She said, effectively pulling the detectives out of their thoughts. Hank shuffled the manila envelope and placed it on the table. 

“We believe that you may be involved in his death and we’d like you to tell us what you know.”

Gently, she put her cup down and gave him her most impassive face. This was it. She just had to handle it like any other business transaction. 

“As a matter of fact, I do have information for you. But I would like to have an exchange.”

The lieutenant tsked. “Are you kidding me? You’re in no position to bargain!”

“True, but what I have will be good for your case. All I ask is to speak to the captain Fowler about this matter.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“No, I do not. But I also do not know you as someone who would let a potential lead slip away.” Hank narrowed his eyes at that. He didn’t like how she was taking to him in such a familiar manner, as if she knew how he operated. 

“All I ask is an audience with Fowler. I will tell you everything.”

She watched the shadows chase away the different emotions on his face. He still tried to school his features, but she knew that he had at least planted a seed of doubt in the old lieutenant’s mind. Telesilla knew that expression. She’d seen it so many times with the different people that she interacted with in the past. 

“Wait here.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, and she could only nod. The woman watched the retreating figure of the old lieutenant and once again she was alone to muse with her thoughts. Playing with Hank wasn’t easy, and she had a strong feeling that he was only retreating to regroup. Telesilla couldn’t blame him if he was thrown off by her question. She had intended it to be a literal curveball. But it was all she could think off at that moment. And if she was going to bare it all, she would be damned if she was going to do it in front of someone she didn’t trust. 

As if on cue, a tiny blossom of hope was ignited as soon as the woosh of the doors hit her ears, but it was put out when in walked Connor, the android detective. She couldn’t help but rake her eyes over the android - of what he has become. A small smile wormed its way on her face despite herself. 

“We meet again, detective.”

He ignored her greeting and instead laid out two photos in front of her from the same manila folder that Hank was holding only moments before. It was a close up CCTV screenshot of a woman hiding under a baseball cap who was pushing towards the sea of people. Telesilla’s eyes studied the shot, immediately noting that her face was exposed as clear as day. He pulls up another photo with another woman wearing the same baseball cap running towards the backend of the alleyway. 

“You were spotted at the scene of the crime at 4:32 the afternoon of the murder of Maximillius Clarence. Afterwards, you were also caught fleeing the scene at 4:37.”

Her eyes trained on the photos as she casually sipped on her drink. “So?”

Connor leveled her with a look that clearly meant that she shouldn’t try the stunt that she pulled with the lieutenant. But Telesilla refused to budge. She stared back at the android, letting the determination school her features. 

“I’ve already laid out the cards for you, detective. Now the ball is in your court. Whether or not you decide to utilize it will be solely up to you.”

The staring match kept on going, and it would have done so if not for a small tapping noise that echoed in the room. The first one who broke out of the match was Telesilla, eyeing the one-way mirror. If she was right on the money, she would have guessed that her request was making Hank antsy. When she returned her gaze to Connor, it was still hard pressed and trained to weaken the will of any criminal. 

She smirked. “I’ll be waiting, detective.”

____

There was a sense of calm anticipation that washed over the interrogation room as soon as Connor stepped out. He was met by Hank, and he mirrored the same expression.  _ Should they really let her talk to the captain?  _ It might be just a way to delay what was inevitable  - either she had something to do with it or not. But with her contradictory body language, his gut feeling told him that she had something for them. And the only way to know and to find out what that was was to let the captain speak to her. 

“What do you think, son?” 

Connor’s LED spins yellow. “I think we should call the captain in, Lieutenant.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just hope he’s in a good mood.” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading this! If you like it, or would have any comments or suggestions for me, please don't hesitate to reach out to me! Have a good day!


End file.
